Killing Me Softly
by Aurlana
Summary: Alistair is a writer - Cullen is a douche. Alistair gets some news he wasn't expecting and has to process it. This is a one shot - Modern Day AU


**Notes:**

For Ponticle.

This is much darker than what I usually write. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. ;)  
This is inspired by the darker feel of Ponticle's worlds. She said this is about 1/3 her coffeeshop universe, 1/3 her affair universe and 1/3 all me. She recently wrote something fluffy, so I had to counter it with some angst.  
Not my usual cup of tea - but we all have to step out of our comfort zone some time!

For those that have issues with angst, I'd like to reassure you that Alistair is ok at the end... better than ok even!  
I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Killing Me Softly**

* * *

 _Alistair is a writer - Cullen is a douche (and yes that's my professional diagnosis for him)_

 _Not from the Cocktails & Cheese universe - just so we're clear._

 _(from Alistair's point of view)_

 _Modern AU_

* * *

I'm ok… no really. I'll be all right. I should have seen this coming. What I didn't expect was how fucking bad it hurts. I'm not even sure I was meant to find out… at least, not like _this_. Standing in line at my favorite coffee shop, I overhear an old mutual acquaintance talking. Apparently Cullen and Icis are expecting... a little girl… due in 3 months.

What the actual fuck? When did that happen? I swear they only just moved in together! Or was that last year? Shit.

See… Cullen and I… have history. We used to come here together back in our college days. We were best friends. We were _more._ This was our regular hang out. A twenty-four-hour coffee shop full of students cramming for exams. This is where we met for the first time, where he penetrated me for the first time-this is also where he broke my heart.

After graduation, he moved away, but I kept coming here. They serve the best coffee in town and the barista's all greet me by name when I come in. Until today, that was enough to overwrite the pain I felt when he left. He now lives in another state; his memory here, all but forgotten. I thought it was safe… apparently not.

It's been five years. We both moved on. Cullen's in California and I recently married my best friend and soulmate. Anders is a _hot_ shot lawyer with a heart of gold. We're happy, truly happy. He treats me better than Cullen ever did. With my husband I feel loved, appreciated, and never like he's ashamed of me or what we have together. I am not, nor have I ever been Andy's _dirty little secret._ It's very liberating, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

So why does this news still hurt?

I can't do this now. I need to get in my car and drive. I've canceled my meetings for the day and called Anders to tell him what happened. He respects my need to clear my head. He was there to help me pick up the pieces, he understands better than anyone, how much Cullen broke me. He knows this is how I process. He trusts-when I've gotten it all out-I will come home to him and let him comfort me. He told me to check in periodically and he'll keep dinner warm for when I get back. He's sweet that way.

But first… I need this.

Throwing my satchel onto the soft black leather of the passenger seat, I climb into my Acapulco blue, 1967, Ford Mustang and breathe in the familiar comforts of home. We've done this together many times. It's familiar: my safe haven. Closing the door, I strap myself in, press in the clutch and listen to the heady sound of her engine roar to life. Depressing the gas, I feel the vibrations course through me; once… twice. We're just getting started.

Connecting the Bluetooth on my phone to the only updated piece of equipment inside my classic beast, I select my Cullen playlist. Anders helped me create it and though I don't listen to it very often anymore, I keep it loaded… for days like this. Some of the songs are loud and fast, some are slow and mournful. Rock, Jazz, Classics, Country, Pop: I know every word to every one of them. I've belted them out at the top of my lungs in fits of anger and barely been able to choke out basic melodies through my wracking sobs. Each one etched into my heart to help me mend the pieces he so mercilessly ripped away.

It's time to go. I need out. The city is too close, too claustrophobic. The clouds overhead threaten rain. Perfect. Rain is cleansing; and right now, that's exactly what I need. I drive 20 minutes and take the exit heading north. Away. Curving roads help me unwind the turbulence in my head. It's starting to drizzle, so I turn on my wipers. Even though it's still the middle of the day, I turn on my lights as well. Then I turn up the radio. A song comes on that fits my mood. Perhaps a little too well.

I hurt. He has a way of doing that to me. I believe, he does it on purpose… because he _can_. Because I allow it. He plucks the pain from my strings easier than anyone else ever has—leaving me raw, needy, and willing to accept anything from him to fill those gaping holes he leaves behind. Or at least, that was the familiar dance we used to move to...back in the day.

Shifting into a lower gear as I begin the climb up the mountain, I begin to sing along with the music echoing the pain in my heart.

 _Strumming my pain with his fingers_

 _Singing my life with his words_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Telling my whole life with his words_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

For so long, I was his pet; coming when called, doing whatever he asked. I didn't care, I was happy knowing that there was a part of him, that just wanted to be with me. I was his. But he was never mine. He knew how to keep a tight hold on my leash. I didn't realize it then; I deserved better. I'm worth more than that.

 _I heard he sang a good song_

 _I heard he had a style_

 _And so I came to see him_

 _To listen for a while_

 _And there he was this young boy_

 _A stranger to my eyes_

The coffee shop was packed, the night that we met. I dragged myself in to study, with only one seat available, I asked to share the table with him. The smile that lit up his features immediately captured my heart. I was lost. I think he _knew…_ and from the beginning used that knowledge every chance that he got. We talked until dawn, neither of us got any studying done. We parted; exchanging numbers and agreed to meet up again. To study, or… _something_.

 _Strumming my pain with his fingers_

 _Singing my life with his words_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Telling my whole life with his words_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

I never hid my bi-sexuality; he was still safely in the closet. I followed his lead. He always did like to take control. And I let him. Never more or less than he wanted me to be. Nothing I wanted mattered. It was all about him; it was always about him. But, oh… I wanted. He knew. Teased and taunted me with what I desired most, then flaunted his desires elsewhere. I'd barely get a taste before he was ripping the spoon from my mouth and bringing random women around. He had a reputation to protect. He flaunted what he was sharing with them so openly, when he refused to even acknowledge what we had. What _did_ we have?

 _I felt all flushed with fever_

 _Embarrassed by the crowd_

 _I felt he found my letters_

 _And read each one out loud_

 _I prayed that he would finish_

 _But he just kept right on_

We danced around it. Always in secret. Never really talking about it. Why would we? It was easier to deny he was attracted to someone with a dick that way. Anders would say, plausible deniability. I call it, bullshit. Stolen kisses, frenzied hand-jobs; nothing more than a series of one-and-dones. Only… he never let me be done. I tried… repeatedly. But he knew my weakness. He _was_ my weakness.

 _Strumming my pain with his fingers_

 _Singing my life with his words_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Telling my whole life with his words_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

During one of our late night / early morning study sessions, I found him standing outside the lavatory door waiting for me to come out. Placing his palm in the middle of my chest, he pushed me back inside, locking the door behind him. Something was different in the way he looked at me. He was the predator; I was the prey. I never stood a chance. It was rougher than I wanted, not enough lubrication, not enough time to prepare. He said I should have thanked him for finally giving me what I'd been wanting. I went home, cried, and prayed that the bleeding would stop soon. My body healed quickly; my heart apparently needed more abuse.

 _He sang as if he knew me_

 _In all my dark despair_

 _And then he looked right through me_

 _As if I wasn't there_

 _And he just kept on singing_

 _Singing clear and strong_

It wasn't all pain and power struggles. Cullen is capable of being caring and considerate; when it suits him, when he wants something… sometimes it's just to keep that carrot hanging just out of reach. It was enough to keep me on my leash. I wanted him. Maker, I thought he was my whole world, that I would never be able to live without him. I pleaded with him to be only mine, even if he wasn't ready to come out of the closet yet. I was willing to stay his ' _dirty little_ secret' if he'd stop sleeping around. He didn't want to give up his reputation, but he wouldn't let me go either. I was trapped, but I was beginning to see.

 _Strumming my pain with his fingers_

 _Singing my life with his words_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Telling my whole life with his words_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

Graduation was both a curse and a blessing. I thought that once we had our diplomas, he wouldn't need to hide anymore. He didn't need to keep up pretenses so his parents would continue paying his way. Having graduated, I began working for my family's newspaper here in town. Cullen was offered a job in California; which he accepted without hesitation. Without an invitation for me to join him or even a second thought in my direction. You know what he said to me after a final rough and tumble in that same lavatory? "It was fun while it lasted Ali… you were good times." That fucker! Good times? That's it? I gave him years of my fucking life and all I was to him was _good-fucking-times_. Thanks asshole!

 _Strumming my pain with his fingers_

 _Singing my life with his words_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Telling my whole life with his words_

 _Killing me_

Anders found me crumpled on the floor after Cullen left. He wiped away my tears and helped me get cleaned up. Never judging, lecturing, or trying to belittle the choices I'd made. He was there for me, plain and simple. Solid. He helped me rebuild myself from the ground up. That much damage to my self-worth wasn't going to heal over night. He refused to acknowledge any of my self-depreciating comments. Always open with his praise, but never insincere. Two years of his constant companionship finally cleared the fog from my eyes. Anders always wanted me to be able to see myself how he sees me. One day, I looked up and saw in his eyes what I'd been seeking all along with Cullen. Love. Adoration. Devotion. Given freely and unconditionally without expecting anything in return. Anders loves me. He knows me and still loves me. I was still healing, but he was willing to wait. I was worth it. I _am_ worth it!

 _He was strumming my pain_

 _Yeah, he was singing my life_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Killing me softly with his song_

 _Telling my whole life with his words_

 _Killing me softly_

 _With his song_

I let the final words fade from my lips as the song ended. Looking around, I pull into a turnout that also overlooks the whole valley. It's breathtaking. Shutting off the engine, I exit the safety of my car and stand near the railing to take in the view from the higher elevation. The rain quickly soaks through my clothes and cleanses the darkness of my mood. It leaves everything crisper, cleaner, new, and incredibly beautiful! I cannot deny how fresh everything I'm seeing feels to me now.

The music and the drive have done their job. My own personal catharsis; reliable in its ability to help me work through my shit. Whatever it may be. Looking down at my phone, I select the Cullen playlist, then hit… delete.

I release you Cullen. No longer will you have any control over my emotions or my happiness.

Cullen moving away, was the _best_ thing that ever happened to me. Sure it sucked at the time. He is selfish, egotistical, and-looking back-was never good enough for me. I've done a lot of healing over the last five years. I still have a lot of healing to do. But right now… today… I'm good. I'm ok. No- _better_ than ok. I have Anders, a husband that I would do anything for; with the added security of knowing, that for him, I will never have to prove it.

Yeah, ok, Cullen is going to be a father. He's going to have a daughter. I know I've done a lot of growing over the last few years. I can hope, for her sake, that he has too.

I wish you well Cullen, you may have hurt me, but that doesn't mean I wish your child ill will and I am in a truly better place now. Your life is about to be drastically different. Good luck with that.

Breathing deeply, I select Anders name and type a quick message.

 **Alistair:** I love you.

 **Anders:** I love you too. Are you ok?

 **Alistair:** I am now. Never better actually. Thank you for understanding.

 **Anders:** Always. You know there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.

 **Alistair:** I know.

 **Anders:** You up for Chinese tonight? There's that new place that opened around the corner… my treat?

 **Alistair:** I'd like that. 6pm ok?

 **Anders:** Will you be back by then?

 **Alistair:** Yes, I'm not too far out of the city. May stay a bit longer to enjoy the rain, but I'll be home and dry by then.

 **Anders:** Dry?

 **Alistair:** I'll explain later.

 **Anders:** Ali… Are you singing in the rain again?

 **Alistair:** No, I was singing in the car - but I now that you mention it, I might have a new song to sing. ;)

 **Anders:** Just don't catch Pneumonia while you're jumping in all those puddles. And watch out for those lampposts.

 **Alistair:** Good thing it's not winter, but I still promise not to lick any. Only yours.

 **Anders:** You're incorrigible - behave yourself.

 **Alistair:** Yes, dear.

 **Anders:** I'll see you tonight. Love you!

 **Alistair:** Love you too!

I put my phone back in my pocket and chuckle, the song 'Singing in the Rain' now planted firmly in my head. I may need to load up a new playlist, but for now, I sing this one from memory as it's one of mine and Anders' go-to, feel-good, movies. Thankfully no one drives by as I can't seem to sing this one without a little soft-shoe.

 _I'm singing in the rain_

 _Just singing in the rain_

 _What a glorious feelin'_

 _I'm happy again_

 _I'm laughing at clouds_

 _So dark up above_

 _The sun's in my heart_

 _And I'm ready for love_

 _Let the stormy clouds chase_

 _Everyone from the place_

 _Come on with the rain_

 _I've a smile on my face_

 _I walk down the lane_

 _With a happy refrain_

 _Just singin',_

 _Singin' in the rain_

 _Dancin' in the rain_

 _Dee-ah dee-ah dee-ah_

 _Dee-ah dee-ah dee-ah_

 _I'm happy again!_

 _I'm singin' and dancin' in the rain!_

 _I'm dancin' and singin' in the rain…_

My heart much lighter, I whistle the refrain as I grab a towel from the trunk and dry off as best as I can before climbing back into my car. I'm ready to head home. I'm ready to move on. I'm ready.

* * *

**Killing Me Softly With His Song** by Roberta Flack - 1973

watch?v=kgl-VRdXr7I

or here's another actual video

watch?v=qMzzw6IXH1s

There's another more modern version by the Fugees, but it's missing a verse, so I went with the one almost as old as Alistair's car. ;)

**Singing in the rain** from the 1952 movie of the same name.

watch?v=D1ZYhVpdXbQ

Alistair's car: .

* * *

 **Bonus: Killing Cullen**

I love my job as co-owner and editor of the local paper. Words are my life. With words, I can build people into legend, make them a hero. Or, I can tear them down so you see only what I want you to see. It's a power I wield cautiously, though occasionally I will indulge and let it be my own personal therapy. I would never wish anyone true harm, but sometimes, I allow for creative stress relief.

Little lists make me feel better when I burn them later. Hey, it's better than taking a baseball bat to their heads, and I don't have to wear one of those ugly orange jumpers after! Would totally clash with my hair anyway.

There was a point, about a year after Cullen left, that I wrote this little list. I was still pissed at him. I don't know why I kept it. But after my revelations today, I think it's time I finally let this go.

 **20 ways to kill Cullen**

1\. Decapitation

2\. Slow painful death by rare, genetic disease

3\. Inject him into a videogame, where he has to fight to survive, but when he dies… he dies in real life.

4\. Falling down stairs / broken neck

5\. Bludgeon to death by sledgehammer

6\. Being stuck on Alderan when the Deathstar fired on it

7\. Going swimming while wearing a pair of new concrete boots / drowning

8\. Heart attack while having sex

9\. Getting mauled by a pack of wolves

10\. Asphyxiation from choking on the olive in his Martini

11\. Run them over with a car

12\. Slingshot him to space

13\. Send him into a black hole

14\. Slingshot him into rock hard wall

15\. Shoot him full of lead (tommy gun style)

16\. Torture him slowly until he dies of starvation

17\. Being hung by his neck by a rope (gallows style)

18\. O.D. on Rx Medication

19\. Hit by a bus

20\. Alone and forgotten

Lighting the burner on the stove, I hold the list over the flame and watch as it slowly eats away at the fading lettering. Setting it into my stainless steel sink, I calmly observe the last of the hold he had over me as it burns to nothing. Turning on the water to wash the ashes down the drain, I breathe easy; calm and content in my life. Proud of myself and my accomplishments. My happiness is my own. I've worked hard for it. I love my career, I love my husband, and for the first time ever-I'm happy to admit-I love myself too. I deserve this. I'm worth it.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm not really that mean to wish these kinds of deaths on someone. However, for the sake of this piece, I asked two of my sons (age 8 and 11) to help me formulate disturbing ways to murder someone. At least ⅔ of these were from them. I should probably be worried! lol

* * *

 **End Notes:**

Thank you all for coming along with this little transformative ride I went on!  
(I promise, I'm still working on Cocktails and Cheese! And, Cullen in that world, is still sweet, fun, and perfect for Alistair!)

Ponticle: you're are an amazing inspiration, always pushing me to be better and reach beyond my comfort zone! Thank you for your continued support and inspiration! This little piece of angst and recovery is all for you! You're an amazingly strong and talented woman! I'm honored to have you in my corner and happy to stand by you in yours!


End file.
